A week's time slipped quietly through the cracks of fingers like sand in the shadows of Hogwarts' ancient stone walls.
Since Hera stepped into the spatial rift leading to the Pantheon, for seven full days, not a single sound had emerged from that folded dimension.
There was no surge of divine power, no collapse of dimensions, and no message representing victory or defeat.
At the spot where the rift had closed, the air remained as stable as if not a single ripple of mana had ever been stirred.
Whether Hera was dead or alive, what kind of tragic slaughter had occurred within the Pantheon, and whether the lingering old gods had been completely purged by the Queen—all of it remained a massive unknown.
Jerry did not display any anxiety.
He continued his classes as usual, moving between the corridors, classrooms, and the Alchemy Workshop.
He understood Hera's hand very well; a Queen of the Gods who could stand tall in the Olympian system for millennia was absolutely not a mere accessory to Zeus's power.
The secret lines she had buried and the loyalists she had accumulated, combined with her own unfathomable mastery of laws, were enough to give those sleeping or half-crippled gods a run for their money.
Compared to the high-dimensional silence of the Pantheon, the interior of Hogwarts seemed much more boisterous.
The Board of Governors' roundtable meetings had cycled through five consecutive rounds in this one week.
Pure-blood power players, Ministry special envoys, and representatives of ancient wizards hiding behind capital traded barbs at the long table.
Exchanges of interests, compromises, threats, and back-room deals played out frantically behind the closed oak doors of the meeting room.
But regardless of how they argued, everyone knew in their hearts that the old power structure had been completely torn apart.
The new list of Governors was to be announced on the final working day of this week, and that list was destined to no longer be Dumbledore's one-man show.
Upstairs in the Alchemy Workshop, Hermione Granger endured her most grueling and frantic week since enrollment.
Her eyes were bloodshot from all-nighters, and her originally bushy brown curls had been rubbed into a chaotic bird's nest.
On the massive desk, parchment blueprints of various sizes were piled up in dense heaps.
The Quidditch World Cup was drawing closer.
The time left for them to stock, produce, and promote had been compressed to the absolute limit.
Even if the internal coup of the Padma family had been physically erased by Jerry in a bloody and efficient manner, and even if the flesh-and-blood Hive controlled by the Mother Bug in the alternate dimension was fully prepared to act as a "biological factory," all productivity was just empty talk if the designs weren't finalized.
After several rounds of intense, even face-reddening votes within the club, the product catalog was finally nailed down late last night.
The blueprints for the souvenir area were relatively conservative but still filled with alchemical ingenuity.
Magical badges capable of recording and holographically replaying three seconds of match highlights, temperature-controlled scarves that automatically changed team colors based on the wearer's mood, and high-magnification alchemical binoculars capable of zooming in on a player's micro-expressions or even tracking the flight path of the Snitch.
What truly kept Hermione's eyes red with exhaustion was the "Sex Toy" design catalog, classified separately as top-secret.
The items on those drawings completely subverted everything the young witch had known for the past decade.
There were vibrating egg-vibrators made from a combination of deep-sea pearl oysters and Transfiguration, capable of automatically adjusting their size and surface texture based on the user's body temperature.
There were thermal lubricants fused with Veela sweat and Potions theory, where a single drop could increase skin sensitivity tenfold.
And then there were the silicone molds carved with miniature spatial-folding arrays, allowing users to experience a sensation of weightless floating and endless encasement.
Hermione finished carefully proofreading the runic nodes on the final drawing and heavily pressed down the sealing wax stamp bearing the club's mark.
Actually, she had no choice but to finalize it. Time was truly running out.
Less than twenty days remained until the scheduled first batch delivery date.
Even if the Mother Bug's flesh assembly line could achieve twenty-four-hour continuous intake and synthesis, the conversion of raw materials and the solidification of mana required absolute physical time.
"I finally... made it," Hermione murmured to herself, slumped over the table with her cheek against the cold parchment.
At the same time, outside the Charms classroom in the Hogwarts main building.
The bell signaling the end of class had just tolled at the top of the tower, the heavy sound echoing under the stone vaults.
Wooden doors were pushed open one after another as students in black school robes flooded the corridor like a tide.
Jerry walked with one hand in his sweatpants pocket, the other casually playing with a generic wand that served no actual purpose, following the flow of people outward.
Draco Malfoy trailed Jerry by half a body length, walking slightly behind his shoulder.
The young master of Slytherin currently lacked his usual arrogance when facing ordinary students; his spine was bowed slightly downward in a subtle curve.
"My father sent word through the Two-Way Mirror last night," Malfoy's voice was very low and fast, ensuring only the two of them could hear.
"The final list for the Board of Governors has been decided internally. The seats for the Parkinson and Greengrass families were retained, but they must yield their veto power over Hogwarts' logistical procurement."
"As for that Ministry official who kept trying to meddle in the school's defense barrier budget, my father teamed up with several other families to find a bribery excuse and kick him out of the game entirely."
Jerry's gaze looked at the bas-reliefs ahead in the corridor, his footsteps never pausing.
"Mmh."
He gave only a single-syllable nasal grunt.
"Father also said, regarding the Padma family..." Malfoy swallowed, seemingly feeling an instinctive awe for the topic.
"The handover of assets there has been completed. The Ministry's Department of Commerce has received no missing persons reports for any Padma family members. All accounts, land deeds, and assembly line transfer contracts are fully compliant and legal. It was done... very cleanly."
The corner of Jerry's mouth turned up by about half a pixel.
Of course it was clean. Over thirty living adult wizards, along with their bones, blood, wands, and clothes, had been chewed into pure psionic nutrients by the jagged bone-spikes in the maws beneath the Mother Bug's ground, without a single drop of blood left in the human world. Dead men, naturally, file no reports.
"Tell your father I am satisfied with his recent efficiency. For next month's profit distribution, the Malfoy family's share will increase by two points," Jerry said flatly.
Malfoy's eyes suddenly lit up, and his breathing grew heavy.
"Thank you, Jerry."
Malfoy's tone became even more humble.
The two walked down the stairs, passing through a long gallery hung with portraits of past Headmasters. Just as they were about to turn a corner leading to the courtyard, a woman's silhouette appeared directly ahead without warning, blocking their path.
She was not a student. Nor was she one of Hogwarts' original resident professors.
It was Mei Ting Kim.
The guidance teacher who had brought the young Asian wizards to Hogwarts for exchange was currently leaning quite languidly against a cold stone pillar at the corner.
Her appearance seemed to make the noisy corridor fall silent for a fraction of a second.
Mei Ting Kim carried an incredibly strong exotic flair and mature charm that was completely at odds with this ancient, rigorous Scottish castle.
She did not wear the stiff, traditional wizard robes that covered the body entirely. Today, she wore an extremely modified qipao-style long dress.
The fabric was a dark purple silk that clung tightly to the skin, with large patterns of dark-gold peonies faintly emerging as the magical light shifted across its surface.
The design of this garment was a direct challenge to the bottom line of Hogwarts' dress code.
The neckline was a very deep V-shape; although it didn't directly expose her full curves, in her posture leaning against the pillar, the two heavy mounds of snowy white soft flesh were squeezed by the dark purple silk to create a bottomless cleavage. That abyss seemed to possess some kind of magic, capable of sucking in the gaze of any male.
The waist was cinched incredibly tight, appearing as though it could be encircled by a single hand, vividly outlining the exaggerated curves of her hips.
The most lethal part was the high slit of the skirt.
The slit opened all the way to the very top of the root of her thigh.
With her casual standing posture, a long, beautiful leg wrapped in extremely thin black silk stockings peeked out from the slit without reservation.
The black silk created a highly seductive tension across her calf and inner thigh muscles, and at the very top, the edge of the black lace that gripped her flesh with anti-slip silicone flickered in and out of the dark purple shadows of her skirt.
On her feet, she wore black stilettos with heels at least ten centimeters high. The toes tapped lightly and intermittently against the flagstone floor, making a crisp clack, clack sound.
Her character was laid bare in this moment. Languid, like a lioness stretching in the sun after a full meal. She was perfectly aware of her advantages and took great pleasure in using her body as a weapon to slice through the defenses of all males around her.
Mei Ting Kim held a slender magical pipe made of some kind of Asian bamboo.
She brought the mouthpiece to her flaming red lips, took a gentle puff, and slowly exhaled a cloud of purple smoke with a faint minty aroma.
Through the swirling smoke, her narrow, slightly upturned phoenix eyes looked past Malfoy and locked directly onto Jerry's face.
"Jerry."
Her voice was incredibly syrupy and soft, carrying a natural hoarseness and a lingering drawl. Those two syllables rolled off her tongue as if they had been chewed in her mouth for a long time, carrying a wet, sweet stickiness.
Standing behind Jerry's shoulder, Malfoy took only one look at Mei Ting Kim before immediately lowering his eyelids. As the heir to a pure-blood family, he was far too skilled at reading the room.
The aura of hormones radiating from this woman, directed at Jerry and almost tangible, was thick enough to make him feel suffocated. He knew this was not a place where he should remain.
"Jerry, I... the Prefects have some patrol duties I need to arrange. I'll take my leave now," Malfoy's speaking speed was incredibly fast, not even waiting for Jerry to respond. "Professor Mei Ting, good day."
He hurriedly gave a slight bow to Mei Ting Kim and immediately turned around, walking briskly back the way he had come, his footsteps hurried as if escaping a dangerous hunting ground.
Jerry watched Malfoy disappear at the end of the corridor before letting his gaze fall back onto Mei Ting Kim, who was leaning against the stone pillar. He was not fooled by the woman's aggressively beautiful appearance.
His expression remained calm, the collar of his grey hoodie slightly open, revealing the lines of a youth's collarbone.
"Professor Kim," Jerry's voice was clear, with a hint of polite detachment. "Blocking me here specifically—is there something you need?"
Mei Ting Kim laughed softly.
"Hehe."
Her laughter triggered a violent vibration in the two heavy objects on her chest. The dark purple silk fabric was stretched taut, as if it might burst at any moment.
She left the stone pillar, stepping on her ten-centimeter stilettos, swaying her incredibly full waist and hips as she walked toward Jerry step by step.
Clack, clack, clack.
The sound of the high heels hitting the floor echoed in the corridor.
She stopped less than half a meter away from Jerry. This distance had already breached the normal social safety zone.
The scent on her—not an ordinary perfume, but an incredibly complex mix of minty tobacco, expensive powder, and the mellow bodily aroma unique to an extremely mature female body—hit Jerry squarely in the face.
Mei Ting Kim lowered her head slightly, and from Jerry's current height and angle, the scenery inside that deep V-neck became even deeper and more spectacular.
"There is indeed a matter I need your help with."
Her red lips parted slightly, her eyes holding a hook of unspoken words.
Jerry pulled his hands out of his pockets and crossed them over his chest.
"Let's hear it. If we need to sit down and talk, the Three Broomsticks in Hogsmeade is too crowded now. I can suggest we go out and find a quiet Muggle restaurant," Jerry's tone was strictly businesslike.
Mei Ting Kim shook her head. Among the jet-black long hair pinned at the back of her head, a white jade hairpin used for decoration swayed slightly with her movement.
"No need for such trouble. Besides, the matter is quite urgent; a restaurant isn't suitable."
She leaned forward slightly, her full breasts encased in silk brushing ever so slightly against Jerry's crossed arms.
That incredibly soft and elastic, staggering sensation was transmitted clearly to Jerry's nerve endings even through several layers of fabric.
"Why don't we go to my faculty dormitory?"
Her voice was pressed extremely low, as if a whisper, yet sounding like an incantation filled with a certain suggestion.
Jerry's grey eyes narrowed slightly. He looked at this woman who had "temptation" etched into her very bones. No substantial relationship had occurred between them yet, but that ambiguous tug-of-war had been going on for a while. Today, this woman clearly didn't intend to play this slow game anymore.
"Faculty dormitory," Jerry repeated those two words.
"What? Is the most mysterious and powerful Mr. Rozier at Hogwarts afraid that a defenseless guest guidance teacher like me will eat you up?"
A wave of provocative light flashed in Mei Ting Kim's phoenix eyes. She extended her right hand, encased in a black lace fingerless glove, and tapped her long index finger quite flirtatiously against the chest of Jerry's grey hoodie.
"Lead the way."
Jerry lowered his crossed arms.
Mei Ting Kim's red lips curled into a successful, fox-like smile. She turned around and walked ahead.
The route to the guest faculty dormitory wasn't long, requiring them to cross a secluded gallery in the main castle building and then climb two floors up a spiral staircase.
Jerry followed behind her. The visual impact from this angle was even more violent than when they were facing each other.
Mei Ting Kim's walking posture was incredibly exaggerated.
Those ten-centimeter heels caused her center of gravity to shift; to maintain balance, her hips had to sway with massive amplitude with every step.
Those two massive buttocks, tightly wrapped in dark purple silk, traced frantic "8" shapes in Jerry's line of sight.
The fabric was pulled into countless fine, radial wrinkles by this violent swaying.
And that high slit, opened to the root of the thigh, constantly threw out that plump, beautiful leg wrapped in black silk with every stride.
The black silicone anti-slip lace edge flashed frantically between the rising and falling of the skirt, the snowy white "Absolute Territory" thigh-flesh forming the most lethal visual contrast with the black lace.
The air in the corridor seemed to turn viscous because of this woman's exaggerated swaying.
The two arrived before a mahogany door at the end of the third-floor corridor. The doorplate was etched in brass: Guest Instructor — Mei Ting Kim.
Mei Ting Kim did not use a wand but pulled a small brass key from a hidden pocket in her qipao and inserted it into the lock.
Click.
The sound of the lock opening was exceptionally crisp in the quiet corridor.
She pushed the door open, turned to Jerry, and made a "please enter" gesture.
Jerry stepped forward, entering this private domain belonging to Mei Ting Kim. At the instant he crossed the threshold, his pupils contracted violently.
Even Jerry, who was used to the extreme flesh-factories of the Mother Bug and had seen all sorts of grand scenes, felt his breath involuntarily stall for half a second at the sight inside this dormitory.
The dormitory was large, a typical British domed structure, with heavy wool tapestries on the walls and soft Persian carpets on the floor. It was cleaned exceptionally well, without a trace of dust, and all the furniture was spotless.
However.
The visual center of this dormitory was entirely occupied by something incredibly private and incredibly lewd.
It was lingerie.
Countless pieces of lingerie.
It was as if a large-scale permanent suspension charm had been cast throughout the air of the room, or as if they were placed inside invisible, transparent display cases.
Dense quantities of female bras, panties, and various highly private undergarments were hung individually, filling every gap of space from the ceiling to the floor.
Walking in was like stepping into a jungle of desire composed of silk, lace, leather, and straps.
Jerry's gaze swept over these suspended garments.
The one directly in front was a pair of pure white G-strings with a pathetic amount of fabric. Two thin straps connected front and back pieces of lace that could only cover the most critical parts; the center of the lace, the spot that would hug a woman's privates, bore a clear mark where friction had caused it to pill slightly.
In the air to his left hung a black, semi-sheer corset. The cup areas of the corset were completely hollowed out, with only a few intersecting thin black straps used to cradle the breasts, while the hem of the corset was connected to four metal garters used to clip onto the edges of stockings.
To the right, near the large bed, hung a set of bright red dudou (bellybands) filled with Oriental elements. But this was no ordinary bellyband; the lower half of the dudou was directly connected to a pearl jumping-egg string that could be inserted into the body, with a tuft of red fox fur hanging at the end of the cord.
Looking deeper, there were ice-silk nightgowns that were nearly transparent, open-crotch pearl panties, leather breast-harnesses covered in metal rivets, and even several pairs of unwashed, flesh-colored pantyhose that retained a three-dimensional curve from being worn, hanging openly in the air.
These garments were not just numerous; they stuffed the entire dormitory. Jerry had to tilt his head slightly to see the large bed at the end of the room through the gaps of several hanging lace bras.
And accompanying this extreme visual impact was a total surrender of the sense of smell.
Upon entering, one could smell a scent. It wasn't floral, nor woody, but a faint yet incredibly long-lasting and mellow milky fragrance.
This milky scent was different from the gamey smell of cow or goat milk; it carried a warm sensation belonging to a mature human female body. Sweet, moist, as if it could pull into threads in the air.
This scent saturated the fibers of every suspended piece of lingerie and filled the pile of the carpet, seasoning the entire room like a massive, fermenting hotbed.
Jerry stood in place, taking it all in.
Thump.
The mahogany door behind him was gently closed by Mei Ting Kim, followed by the sound of the lock being double-turned.
Mei Ting Kim turned around, leaning her back against the door panel. Her hands were clasped behind her back, her narrow phoenix eyes looking at Jerry, who was surrounded by the suspended lingerie, her lips curling into a smile that was thirty percent languid and seventy percent bewitching.
"Welcome to my world, Jerry."
As she spoke, she raised her right leg extremely slowly. The ten-centimeter stiletto traced an arc in the air, her heel hooking behind her left knee. This movement caused the high slit of her qipao to instantly tear open to its absolute limit.
In 그 moment, Jerry clearly saw the Absolute Territory between the top of her black silk stockings and the root of her thighs.
And above that Absolute Territory, he saw the underwear Mei Ting Kim was wearing today.
It was a black C-string consisting of only a single fine thread.
That thread was buried deep within the depths of her exaggeratedly plump buttock-flesh.
In the front, that small triangular patch of black fabric was already soaked through with fluid.
The dark purple silk of the qipao showed a distinct dark wet stain in that small area.
Squish.
An incredibly minute sound—the sound of fabric and wet soft flesh separating and then clinging together again—rang out abruptly in the silent room.
Just by performing a leg-raising motion, her muddy, drenched privates squeezed out a sound that would make anyone blush.
A faint, half-hearted flush appeared on Mei Ting Kim's cheeks, but her gaze grew even more bold and feverish.
"My dormitory... is a bit of a mess. You won't mind, will you?"
She lowered her right leg, her stiletto stepping back onto the carpet.
Jerry withdrew his gaze from the soaked C-string and looked at the "exhibits" floating around them.
"It's cleaned very well," Jerry gave a very objective evaluation. "It's just that your 'collection hobby' is more diverse than I imagined."
Mei Ting Kim chuckled.
She began to walk, weaving through the lingerie suspended in mid-air.
She moved slowly, intentionally letting her body brush against the garments.
Her shoulder grazed the pure white G-string; her full breasts pushed aside the black sheer corset.
Her body was like a gorgeous, venomous snake slithering through a jungle of desire.
She walked up to Jerry, stopping less than a fist's distance from him.
The rich, milky scent instantly enveloped Jerry completely.
"These are not collectibles," Mei Ting Kim looked up, her phoenix eyes seemingly burning with a moist flame.
"These are all my 'weapons'."
She reached out both hands, grabbing both sides of the collar of Jerry's grey hoodie.
"However, I've found that these weapons don't seem to work very well when facing you."
She leaned her body forward, pressing her oppressive, full breasts firmly against Jerry's chest.
"Mmh..."
A sweet, syrupy moan escaped Mei Ting Kim's throat.
Because the moment she pressed against him, she felt it.
She felt an incredibly terrifying, massive, hard object radiating stunning heat and rigidity.
Through Jerry's loose black sweatpants, it was pressing hard against the position of her privates, right where the C-string was tightened against her lower abdomen.
Jerry was a youth, not exactly one of those massive, hulking brutes.
But inside his body was hidden a beast that refused to listen to reason.
That massive object was the core engine of the "small horse pulling a large carriage."
Upon smelling the lewd milky scent in the room, seeing the private lingerie hanging in the air, and seeing Mei Ting Kim's soaked black C-string, this beast had fully awakened.
At this moment, it propped up a massive, exaggerated tent beneath the fabric of the sweatpants.
The thick shaft and the massive head, wrapped in cloth, felt like a red-hot iron pestle.
Mei Ting Kim's body gave a violent shiver.
She had always loved using her body as a weapon to seduce and control others; she thought she was a master hunter.
But upon feeling the size and hardness of the thing between Jerry's legs, her faked languor and composure were instantly shattered.
They were replaced by pure, biological shock and arousal.
"God..."
Mei Ting Kim's lips parted slightly, exhaling a puff of hot, fragrant breath.
Her hands slid down from Jerry's collar, following his chest and abdomen all the way down.
Finally, they stopped, trembling, over the high-bulging tent.
Through the fabric of the sweatpants, she loosely encircled the thick shaft with both hands.
"This... this is..."
Her voice carried an unhideable tremor.
Her two hands, even spread to their widest, could not completely close around the thick shaft beneath the cloth.
There was at least a three-centimeter gap between her fingertips and the base of her palms.
The staggering length extended from above her palms all the way to nearly her navel.
"It's too big..."
Mei Ting Kim's breathing was completely disordered.
Her narrow phoenix eyes stared fixedly at the place her hands were gripping.
The facade in the depths of her eyes was torn away, leaving only a feral, crazed craving.
Squish... squelch...
Even denser and louder wet sounds came from beneath her skirt.
Just by gripping this massive thing through his pants, her already muddy tunnel began to frantically secrete massive amounts of love juice.
The transparent, viscous liquid overflowed from the edges of her thread-thin C-string.
It flowed slowly down her fair inner thighs and into her black lace stockings.
"Didn't you say there was a matter you needed help with?"
Jerry stood in place, letting the woman grip his vitals.
His hands hung at his sides, his grey eyes carrying a condescending scrutiny.
Mei Ting Kim looked up.
The rims of her eyes had flushed a decadent, hazy red due to extreme arousal.
The milky scent filling the room grew stronger and sweeter as her body temperature rose and her fluids flowed.
"Yes... I need help."
Her hands, through the fabric, began to move up and down unconsciously.
She performed a clumsy yet instinctive stroking motion born of raw desire.
"Hah... hah..."
Her breath puffed against Jerry's chin.
"I need you to... use this..."
She pressed her body even harder against Jerry.
The two massive mounds of soft flesh inside the deep V-neck were squeezed out of shape against Jerry's chest.
She raised her right leg, hooking her long, black-silk-clad leg directly over Jerry's thigh.
In an extremely humiliating and open posture, she used her leaking privates to straddle that massive iron pestle through their layers of clothing.
Squish! Splat!
The sounds of friction between fabric and fabric, and fabric and liquid, were exceptionally loud.
Mei Ting Kim wrapped her arms around Jerry's neck, pressing her red lips to his ear.
With a sobbing tone that was almost a plea, she uttered the line that completely tore off her disguise.
"I need you to... use it... help me fill it up... break it completely..."
"I need you to... use it... help me fill it up... break it completely..."
Mei Ting Kim's voice was still echoing in the air.
That mix of pleading and lewd panting pushed the room's temperature toward the boiling point.
She clung to Jerry, straddling that horrific, massive object, as if she had completely succumbed to the web of desire she had woven herself.
However.
What responded to her was not the youth's embrace, nor the further invasion of that lethal weapon.
It was silence.
A silence colder than the secret chambers deep beneath Hogwarts.
Mei Ting Kim's hazy phoenix eyes, from an extremely close distance, saw the change in the depths of Jerry's pupils.
Those grey eyes, which originally held the clarity and casualness unique to a youth, lost all warmth in an instant.
The look was as if he were staring at a rock, a piece of dead wood, or an ant trying to please its master with a clumsy performance.
The chill of being utterly ignored shot up Mei Ting Kim's spine to the crown of her head.
The next second.
Jerry moved.
His right hand rose from his side, the motion so fast it pulled an afterimage through the air.
Before Mei Ting Kim could even blink, that seemingly ordinary hand belonging to a youth had accurately clamped around her slender neck.
BOOM!
A massive crash.
Mei Ting Kim's world spun.
Her plump, mature body was yanked off him like a ragdoll by the force of Jerry's one-handed grip.
Her back slammed heavily into the wall on the other side of the room.
The thick wool tapestry was shredded by the aftershock of the impact.
A crater appeared in the stone wall, centered on her back, radiating countless cracks outward.
"Cough... hack!"
Mei Ting Kim clutched her throat, squeezing out several painful coughs.
The violent impact made her vision go black, the air squeezed out of her lungs instantly.
But she was a warrior.
This level of pain instead instantly activated the instincts of an Asian wizarding elite within her body.
Fear?
No, what burned in her chest now was extreme vigilance and a savage rage at being played.
She looked up, the coquettishness in her phoenix eyes gone, replaced by a lethal intent as if facing a mortal enemy.
"Acting like a god!"
Mei Ting Kim let out a harsh shout, her right hand making a sudden clutching motion in the void.
The private lingerie suspended in the air now became her most convenient weapons.
This was an Oriental secret art—Object Mastery.
Whoosh! Whoosh! Whoosh!
Over a dozen black lace garters, several corsets with metal skeletons, and even those unwashed flesh-colored pantyhose were instantly transformed into living vipers under Mei Ting Kim's mana infusion.
They traced eerie trajectories through the air, whistling as they lunged from all directions toward Jerry in the center of the room.
The metal skeletons of the corsets became as sharp as knives, aiming for Jerry's throat and eyes.
The stockings and straps attempted to lock his limbs, binding him into an immobile bundle.
This was not just a simple physical attack.
Every flying garment was imbued with Mei Ting Kim's unique mental charm magic.
The moment they touched Jerry's skin, that magic would drill into his nerves, plunging him into a state of extreme excitement and trance, stripping him of all resistance.
This was her trump card, the technique she had used on countless nights to conquer men who considered themselves powerful.
However.
Facing this overwhelming tide of "vipers," Jerry didn't even move a single step.
He merely lifted his chin slightly, a flash of extremely contemptuous mockery crossing his grey eyes.
Swish.
Jerry's right hand gave a casual wave in front of him.
It was like shooing away an annoying fly.
A visible, ice-blue shockwave of mana erupted forward from his palm in a fan shape.
This shockwave used no flashy incantations and no complex runes—only pure, overwhelming mana density.
CRASH!
A muffled explosion.
The lace, silk, and metal skeletons flying toward Jerry were like moths into a furnace the moment they hit the ice-blue wave.
The mental charm magic attached to the clothing was instantly washed away by Jerry's ocean-like mana.
Next came the physical disintegration.
The expensive silk and lace turned directly to dust under the tearing force of the mana.
The metal skeletons twisted, snapped, and became countless tiny fragments splattering in all directions.
Scraps of fabric fell like snow throughout the room.
Mei Ting Kim's pupils constricted violently.
Her Object Mastery had been shattered with a single slap.
And not just shattered—the escaping ice-blue mana even penetrated through the barrier of the clothes, carrying a bone-chilling cold straight toward her face.
Mei Ting Kim did not dare take it head-on.
Her hands rapidly formed seals in front of her chest, dark red light flashing from her fingertips.
"Flame Array: Red Lotus!"
A ring of scorching fire rose from beneath her feet, transforming into a massive red lotus that enveloped her.
The high temperature instantly evaporated the moisture in the room, a scorched smell filling the air.
BOOM!
The ice-blue shockwave slammed into the red fire barrier.
Two opposing forces of mana collided and devoured each other frantically.
The stalemate lasted for less than half a second.
That seemingly indestructible "Red Lotus" collapsed before the ice-blue flood.
The fire was extinguished instantly, like a candle blown out by a gale.
The remaining shockwave, its momentum undiminished, slammed hard into Mei Ting Kim.
"Ngh-ah!"
Mei Ting Kim grunted, her body sent flying again, crashing heavily onto the broad, soft bed.
The bedframe emitted an overstrained creak.
Before she could recover from the dizziness, a shadow loomed over her.
Jerry was already standing by the bed.
He looked down at the limp Mei Ting Kim on the bed, not a speck of dust on his grey hoodie.
Mei Ting Kim struggled to crawl up, her right hand reaching for the bamboo pipe on the nightstand—her wand and her last weapon.
"Too slow."
Jerry's voice sounded like a sentence delivered from the depths of hell.
His left foot stepped onto the edge of the bed, his entire body leaning forward with weight.
His right hand shot out again; this time, he didn't grab her neck.
His five fingers accurately clamped around the right wrist Mei Ting Kim was using to reach for the pipe.
CRACK.
A crisp sound of bone dislocation.
"Ahhh...!"
Mei Ting Kim let out a piercing scream.
The intense pain in her wrist made her instantly lose control of her mana, the bamboo pipe falling to the carpet with a thud.
Jerry exerted force in his wrist, pinning Mei Ting Kim's right arm behind her back, then slammed his body weight down on her.
Thump.
Mei Ting Kim was pinned beneath Jerry, lying face-down in the soft bedding.
Jerry's knee jammed into the root of her thigh, pinning her long, kicking legs to the bed.
His left hand pressed her head into the pillow, while his right hand firmly controlled the arm pinned behind her back.
This posture was one of absolute suppression.
There was no room for maneuver.
Mei Ting Kim's dark purple modified qipao was completely disheveled from the struggle.
The high slit of the skirt was wide open, revealing the love-juice-soaked black C-string and her long legs in black silk.
But now, there was no eroticism in this image, only violent conquest.
Though Jerry's body was only that of a youth, the weight he pressed onto Mei Ting Kim felt as heavy as a mountain.
It was the physical pressure brought by mana density.
Mei Ting Kim writhed her body desperately, trying to break free from beneath Jerry.
Her plump buttocks repeatedly brushed against Jerry's thighs and crotch during the struggle.
"Mmh! Mmh-mmh!"
Her face was buried in the pillow, emitting muffled roars and cries of alarm.
She couldn't believe it.
She absolutely could not believe it.
Herself—an elite witch famous even in the Asian magical world, a bombshell who had played countless men like toys—was being completely subdued in less than ten seconds by a boy who looked no older than seventeen or eighteen, in such a simple and brutal way.
This wasn't a magical duel at all.
This was a one-sided crushing.
Her techniques, her charms, her so-called "weapons"—before this boy, they were laughably childish.
A sense of despair began to spread in her heart.
Just then, the weight pressing on her seemed to lighten slightly.
Jerry released his left hand from the back of her head and instead grabbed her long, jet-black hair, forcibly yanking her head up from the pillow.
"Hiss!"
The tearing sensation in her scalp brought tears to the corners of Mei Ting Kim's eyes.
She was forced to tilt her head back, her neck bent back at an extreme angle.
Through her hazy, tear-filled eyes, she saw Jerry's face.
That face was still calm, still bearing the delicate contours of a youth.
But in those grey eyes, there was now a coldness and madness that made her shiver from the depths of her soul.
Mei Ting Kim's lips trembled.
The fire of rage and pride that had sustained her in the fight just now collapsed completely in this moment.
She finally realized she had provoked a monster that could not be measured by common sense.
She thought she was the hunter, using her body as bait to capture this seemingly powerful boy.
Little did she know, she had provoked an ancient dragon in sheep's clothing.
"You... just who the hell are you?!"
Mei Ting Kim's voice was hoarse and broken, carrying unhideable fear and trembling.
This was not just an inquiry of identity.
It was a questioning of an entity she completely failed to comprehend.
How could a Hogwarts student possess such crushing power? How could he be completely immune to her charm magic? How could he treat her with a brutality that even the heads of pure-blood families had never shown?
Jerry watched her.
The corner of his mouth turned up slightly, revealing an incredibly faint yet hair-raising smile.
He did not answer.
He simply released his left hand from Mei Ting Kim's hair and moved it slowly downward.
His fingers traced her slender neck, slid over her back which was heaving with ragged breath, and finally stopped at her right wrist pinned behind her.
Click.
Jerry's fingers gave a light flick, resetting Mei Ting Kim's dislocated wrist joint.
The intense pain was followed by an instant surge of numbness, and Mei Ting Kim's body gave an uncontrollable twitch.
"Who I am isn't important."
Jerry's voice was low, carrying absolute authority.
"What matters is... who are you?"
His right hand moved from Mei Ting Kim's wrist, sliding down the curve of her arm and landing on her plump buttocks, which were held high due to her struggle.
Through that thin layer of the black C-string, Jerry's palm covered her without a hint of politeness.
SMACK!
A slap.
Crisp, loud, and carrying a meaning of absolute humiliation.
"Ah!"
Mei Ting Kim let out a cry, her body jerking tight like a cat that had its tail stepped on.
"You are not—Mei Ting Kim!"